


It Wasn't

by rosymamacita



Series: Alpha Male Celebration [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Universe, F/M, Nobody Dies, Praimfaya, Season 4 Finale speculation, Spoilers, The Apocalypse, alone in the bunker, i didn't read the spoilers but you know fandom spreads things so no details just ideas, pregnancy fic, the lighthouse, the rocket
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-30 10:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10874661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosymamacita/pseuds/rosymamacita
Summary: Praimfaya is here. Clarke sacrifices herself for her people and Bellamy won't have that. So he sacrifices himself for her. And Clarke will NOT have that.





	1. It Wasn't (Part 1)

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Yay! So happy to see you're taking prompt asks for the writing you're doing for Bob's win! Would you consider one where Bellarke *finally* sleep together before the apocalypse but she gets accidentally pregnant and they're trapped together - could be in the bunker with other Sky People - or at ALIE's bunker by themselves or another location. I'm not picky. thanks! :)
> 
> So yeah, if you want to leave a prompt for Bob's Alpha Male win, leave one for me in the comments or on my blog.
> 
> https://rosymamacita.tumblr.com/

When the rocket malfunctioned, they all looked at each other in dread.

Praimfaya was coming. They could see it rolling over the ocean on the satellite images. This was their last chance, now that the bunker was sealed up tight with all the chosen inside, safe for five years. 

They would die, unprotected if they did not get out of the atmosphere in the next 15 minutes.

“It’s going to take at least an hour to fix this malfunction,” Raven said. 

Bellamy closed his eyes. It had been a last ditch effort to save all their friends, but it was failing. He began to laugh, and reached out to take Clarke’s hand. They would at least die together, after their long fight on earth to stay alive, they’d finally realized their love. She was buckled into the jumpseat next to him, ready for take off. They’d meet their end together.

Except her hand wasn’t there. She was busy unbuckling herself. “Start the countdown, Raven,” she said.

“What?” Bellamy asked, staring at her.

But she was already out of her seat and to the door.

“I’m going to close the blast doors manually. Go Raven.”

“No!” Bellamy said, but she was already through the door, off the rocket and Raven was starting the countdown. “No!” He cried. “No!” He fumbled with his own harness. Why was it so complicated?

“Bellamy,” Monty said, “You have to let her go. She’s nightblood. She’ll make it you know she will. She’s Clarke. She’ll save us. We’ll come back for her in five years.”

“Five years?” the thought made him desperate. No no no.

But the door was already closing. She’d gotten to it. She was saving them and would be left on a burning planet, alone. To survive through that? He couldn’t imagine it. “No,” was all he said. And he was free from the harness at the blast door as it slid lower and lower. He rolled under the door and out

“Bellamy, no!” He heard Monty cry, but Bellamy was on the outside and the blast door shut on his denial.

“What are you doing, Bellamy!” Clarke cried, despairing. She turned around from the lever panel, tears running down her face. “You were supposed to be on the rocket!”

“I couldn’t leave you Clarke, I couldn’t.” He said climbing to his feet.

Clarke didn’t waste time, she ran to him and clutched at him, pulling him away. “They’re going to blast off. We have to go!” 

So they ran, together. 

***

Clarke and Bellamy watched the rocket take off from behind the hill, panting with the exertion of their race for cover. She’d never run so fast in her life. But their friends were safe, and here was Bellamy, willing to die with her. 

She couldn’t stop crying.

“Stop, Clarke, please. Stop crying. We’re not going to die. We’re going to live, okay? We have something to live for.” And then he kissed her. It was like every time he’d kissed her in the last few days, now that they’d admitted their feelings. Now that they were allowed. The world simply stopped being terrible for one minute. 

And here he was, finally, believing that it would work out, but they were minutes away from Praimfaya. How could he even think it? She’d planned to sacrifice herself to the death wave, so he and all their friends could live, but she couldn’t now, not with him here. She had to find a way.

“The lighthouse,” she said.

“What?” Bellamy asked. It reminded her that he had never gotten the chance to talk to Murphy about what had happened to him those three months before ALIE took over.

“The lighthouse bunker where Jaha imprisoned Murphy. We can make it through the death wave there. Come on.” She tugged at his hand and got him up. He followed her without question.

She didn’t want to think about how they’d probably die from starvation or thirst, even if they made the physical shelter of the bunker, because no one had ever stocked it for survival after Murphy was there. But she didn’t want to tell Bellamy that. She wanted to give him hope.

Maybe they’d get to just be together and enjoy each other’s company, ending their days in the bunker, alone and in peace. There were worse ends to be had. “Come on, Bellamy,” the sky was already darkening. She was afraid the death wave was coming sooner rather than later. “We have to run.” 

He took her hand and they ran again. 

The black rain had just begun falling by the time they reached the lighthouse. It was the outside of the death wave, she knew. The sky was nearly purple on the horizon, praimfaya was so close. It flashed with evil red. Bellamy huddled in the scant shelter of the lighthouse doorway while Clarke opened the door. The black rain did not hurt her. But she could see the rising welts on Bellamy’s neck and cheek and it made her hurry.

Then the door was open and she was shoving him in to the bunker. Down the stairs into the warmly lit room. Music was playing. Catchy, cheery music that someone must have turned on at one point, probably Murphy, before shutting down the lighthouse power and leaving.

Bellamy pulled off his jacket and tossed it to the floor, whipping his tshirt over his head and stripping out of his pants. They were wet with black rain. He needed fresh water to wash off the corrosive effects and her heart sank.

She cast around desperately, hoping there was something still stocked. 

There in the corner was a barrel. One she was familiar with. It once held hydrazine. On the side “H2O” was written in thick black marker. Bellamy screamed and swiped at his skin and Clarke ran over to the barrel, yanking off the lid. “Water! Bellamy water! Come here!” 

He staggered over to her and dipped his hands in to splash them over his face. She found a nearby bowl and began pouring it over his back which seemed to be scalded the worst. 

“Stop, stop, Clarke. You’ve got to conserve the water, it’s going to keep you alive for as long as possible.”

So he had already considered the fact that the bunker would have little to no supplies needed. And now he was trying to conserve them for her. “Keep ME alive?” It sounded like an accusation. “You think I’m the only one who’s going to survive here?”

He grimaced and shivered in pain. Then laughed bitterly. “Well yeah. You’re the nightblood. The radiation’s already gotten me. I’ve seen this before.” He winced. “It doesn’t end in happy ever after, Clarke. I made sure you didn’t give up after saving us. I got you to the goddamn bunker. Whether it can keep you safe for the next five years or not, your nightblood is going to make you more resistant to the radiation than anyone and you have a chance to survive. That’s all I wanted. So. I’m good to go.” He shivered again and fell to his knees.

“No, Bellamy. No.”

“Yeah, that seems to be the consensus.” A groan broke free from him. “Damn this hurts.”

She dropped to her knees next to him and caught him before he fell to the floor, unconscious.

***

Bellamy woke up, intermittently, and in pain. 

Clarke was always there. She’d smile at him, her eyes full of tears. At first, she tried to touch him, but the the sores were too painful. He’d fade back into unconsciousness, and it was a relief.

He was on the floor, but she’d dragged a mattress from somewhere and set it up as a bed from him. He guessed she was unable to carry him off to the bed on her own. So she’d made do.

“You’re so clever,” he said. 

Her head popped up from where she’d rested it next to him, not touching, not even on the mattress herself. “You’re awake,” she said. For once her eyes were not full of tears. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He couldn’t help saying it. He was happy he got to die, at least being able to tell her that. “I love you, Clarke.” And that.

“Stop Bellamy. Stop it. Stop saying goodbye to me.”

He wanted to reach his hand out to her, to run his fingers through her golden hair, but he couldn’t lift it that high. He sighed in exasperation. “We both know what’s happening, Clarke. Let me at least say goodbye.”

She shook her head. “You’re not. You’re going to live. Murphy and Emori must have though we were abandoning them here. This place is fully stocked to survive for years. For two people. Murphy’s cook books are here.” She laughed.

“Good,” he sighed. “Then I can die knowing you’ll make it. I’m happy.”

“No, Bellamy,” she sat up, reached out to take his hand but stopped as if she had remembered how much touch hurt him. It all hurt. So he grabbed her hand. Better to hold her, even if it hurt. “Bellamy…I wanted to ask you first—“

“I’ll always love you, Clarke. Live for me,” he struggled to get out, as a blackness descended on him. He knew that was it. 

It wasn’t.

He woke up again. He wasn’t sure at first. Thought it was a dream. Because there was no pain. His eyes opened and the bunker was dim. Quiet. He looked around. No one.

He cleared his throat. “Clarke?” the word was quiet and weak. But she heard. There was a rustling in the other room and then she appeared in the doorway. 

A huge smile broke on her face and she sighed so her whole body sagged. “You’re awake.”

She didn’t seem puzzled. He, however, was. He tested his senses. His limbs. His lungs no longer hurt. His stomach wasn’t cramping. The feeling of creeping death in his limbs was gone. The burning sores no longer burned. His muscles did not ache. He sat up on his elbows. He was weak. But that was it. 

“How am I alive?”

She came to him and knelt on the floor at his bedside. Her smile this time was sad. Worried. She brushed her fingers through his hair. “I did something.”

He shook his head at her, not really knowing what that meant.

“Murphy and Emori? They stocked the bunker,” she started. 

“I remember. You told me. It must have been one of my more lucid moments.”

“You told me you were glad because it meant I would survive and you could die in peace.” A sob broke from her chest.

“Hey,” he said and took her hand and held it to his heart. He was shocked for a moment that such a movement came so easily when before he couldn’t even lift his hand. “I’m alive. So you did something.”

She nodded. Took his hand and held it out. She traced the black lines running up and down his arm. The veins thick and dark, like charcoal. 

“You made me a nightblood? You gave me your bone marrow?” He couldn’t imagine her drilling her own bones for marrow, without needed medical supplies. Without anyone to help her, just for him.

But she shook her head. “No. There were vials of the marrow serum in the refrigerator. Murphy and Emori must have stolen what we left behind. Brought all the medical supplies here, along with the food and water. I always knew we shouldn’t have trusted Murphy with that medical knowledge. Or maybe we should always have. Because he saved your life.” This time the tears were mixed with laughter. She looked at him sadly. “I wanted to ask your permission first.” Her eyes dropped in shame, “but I thought you were dying, and I—I couldn’t lose you. So I took the risk.”

“You made me a nightblood.” He was astonished. All of that had always seemed so distant from him.

“If I survive, you survive,” she said.

He breathed out. It was a miracle. That he could breathe. That it wasn’t cripplingly painful. “I’m alive.” She nodded. He tugged on her hand and made her lay next to him. He had the strength to do that. Or she wasn’t resisting at all. Maybe she wanted to curl up under his arm, her head on his chest. Because it no longer hurt.

“I can hear your heart,” she said. “It’s good and strong.”

He hugged her tighter. Still unbelieving. “Thank you.” 

“It was worth the risk. I would do it again, Bellamy, even if you hated me for it. Because at least you’d be alive.”

“I don’t hate you, Clarke,” he said. “I love you.”

She sighed again and looked up at him, from so close, her eyes were shining and blue. “That’s not a goodbye.”

“It’s a beginning.”

Her smile was back. She leaned up on her elbow and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “I love you, too. We get to have this. I love you.”

He wanted to give her the kisses she deserved, but he could feel in his limbs that he was still too weak, so instead, he wrapped his arm around her and pressed the middle of her back so she collapsed against his chest. He enjoyed her weight on him, so much. He kissed her back, desperately. 

He felt her smile against his lips as she returned the kiss.


	2. It Wasn't (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy and Clarke are alone in the bunker at the end of the world and spend weeks naked and wrapped up in each other, now that there's no one else to save.
> 
> Then Clarke starts getting sick. Did the nightblood fail? Was the radiation too much? Was this the end?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Prompt: Bellamy and Clarke are on a day trip or something and Clarke keeps coughing and Bellamy is worried that she has radiation sickness, but she keeps denying it. You could choose if she actually have it or not
> 
>  
> 
> This prompt fit nicely into the last prompt and is a continuation. Thus, part 2.

Bellamy got better a lot faster than he thought he would.

Well, considering that he never expected to get better at all, the whole thing bordered on miraculous, deus ex machina, gift of the gods. Or perhaps just gift of Clarke Griffin.

Clarke.

He couldn’t believe her. He couldn’t believe she was here. He couldn’t believe he got to have her.

They had lost everybody, or at least they’d lost everybody for now. They were all safely tucked away in bunkers, or on space stations in orbit over this burning planet. They were the only two left in this tiny, luxurious bunker. There was music and games and movies and absolutely nothing to do in the entire world but…

…Live.

Bellamy could hardly believe it. 

Once he’d regained his strength and the two of them had cried out their losses and their relief, and their fear and despair at the actual end of the world, all they had left was each other.

He never thought it would happen. This.

He lay in bed with her, the mattress now replaced on the actual bed, layered with pillows and cozy blankets and softer than soft sheets. They lay naked all day long because there was nowhere to go and no one to save and nothing to do, but each other. 

He loved Clarke’s back. He never thought that this would be the part of her that he loved most, but it was. He loved the muscles under the skin and the vulnerability she showed when she bared her nape to him. He loved the freckles that sparsely dotted the skin and the dimples in her lower back, right below where it dipped into it’s narrowest point. 

She was sleeping, but they had nowhere to be. He ran one finger up her spine from the dimples to her shoulder blades. She rolled her head back to show him her neck, which he obligingly kissed.

“Bell,” she murmured, still sleepy, but she curled her arm behind his neck and he pressed up against her from behind. So much flesh against his. Honestly, he’d never had this in his life, even with his other lovers. Nothing like this. Nothing like this total immersion in her, body, mind and soul.

He should be sorry that he’d lost the world, lost his friends, lost his sister, but he was still drunk in Clarke and he couldn’t feel sorry. Not yet. He was sure it would wear off at some point. 

She rolled under him until she was facing him. He kissed her lazily and she kissed him back. “Oh,” she moaned and let her head fall back. “I’m so tired. It’s ridiculous. I don’t think I ever want to get out of this bed.”

He grinned and pressed his lips to her pulse. “You don’t have to. Ever. Stay here with me. Let me love you.”

She chuckled quietly. “As if I could stop you.” She lay there under his kisses, smiling weakly, her arms looped around his shoulders.

“You really are tired, aren’t you?” He asked, surprised at her lack of aggression. Definitely something new these last few weeks. Almost one month they’d been in the bunker. 

“So tired. Ugh.” Her arms fell back against the bed. “This used to happen to me on the Ark. It’s hard to even remember what it was like on the Ark, but this definitely happened to me. I’d get so focused on a project or studying for finals that I’d put everything I had into it, and then when I finished and I was over, I’d just collapse and go comatose for a few days. My dad used to make fun of me. He said I was like a bear who went into hibernation.”

Bellamy pulled back from Clarke, drawing the blanket up around her shoulders even though the environment of the bunker was a perfectly comfortable temperature. 

“Well, you definitely have been expending a lot of energy on keeping humanity alive,” he said.

She let her head go back and forth on the pillow, her eyes still closed. “I’ve done what I could. They’ll survive or they won’t. I’m done. I deserve to hibernate, right?”

“You totally do.”

“You do too, Bell.”

“Well it’s a good thing we’re stuck in this bear cave together. Hmm? You wanna go back to sleep?”

She murmured and nodded.

“Okay,” he said and kissed her forehead. “I could sleep some more.” He cuddled up against her side and she made a contented noise.

“This is perfect. We’re at the end of the world on an irradiated planet, but this is perfect.”

She nodded. “It is,” she said, then sighed. He pulled her closer and she gasped, her eyes popping open suddenly. “Bell!” she gasped and sat up.

“What is it?” she surprised him.

Then she jumped out of bed and ran for the bathroom.

“Clarke, what’s the matter?” he asked, concerned. And then he heard the retching. 

The world stopped.

She was sick. 

The radiation. The nightblood. It had failed. The radiation was too strong for them. They’d never tested it. It didn’t matter. The world was ending and it was taking them down.

He threw his legs over the edge of the bed and braced his elbows on his knees, listening to her throw up. He took slow breaths and then pulled on his shorts. He picked up one of the soft robes that came with the bunker and padded into the bathroom after her. 

She was resting her head on the toilet seat. Her face pale and nearly green.

“Hey, princess,” he said gently, and draped the robe over her shoulders. 

She lifted her head weakly. “It was just a thing. It’s passing now. I must have caught a thing and it’s just my body getting rid of the anxiety of these last few months. I haven’t— I haven’t really been as happy about losing everyone as I’ve acted. Apparently my body is saying enough is enough.” She laughed and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. He helped her up then turned to the sink and poured her a glass of water.

The barrels Murphy had stocked were enough to refill the cisterns and the water reclamation unit was fully functional. They did not have to worry about water. It tasted stale, but it was better than water on The Ark.

“You think your body is throwing up anxiety and grief?” He handed her the water.

She raised her chin and glared at him “The body is an amazing thing. If you don’t acknowledge your feelings, it shows up in strange ways. I learned this when I was out in the woods.”

She drank the water and glared at him over the top of the glass. 

“Weren’t you a medical apprentice?” he asked, doubtful of this new concept. They both knew the more likely issue was the rising radiation outside of their bunker door. Maybe the bunker was leaking. Maybe the residual radiation was finally taking it’s toll. Maybe the nightblood was failing and what they’d already processed was working through her system. Not feelings. Radiation. 

But he didn’t say that. He said. “Hey, you wanna see a movie? I was digging in the archives and found a whole file of classics from the 1940s. Black and white, mostly.”

“Oh I love those ancient ones. They’re almost like a dream. Totally unreal.”

“The Wizard of Oz is the top pick. I’ve never seen it. Did they have that one on the Ark?”

She was stuffing her arms into the robe and made a face before tying it shut. “No, that doesn’t sound familiar. Let’s put it on and do nothing else all day.”

He cupped his hand around the back of her neck and began massaging. Her muscles were so tight she winced. Her anxiety was not released. She knew what throwing up in the apocalypse meant. They weren’t going to talk about it.

“Sounds great,” he said, and lead her over to the couch, dragging some pillows and blankets from the bed so they could cuddle.”

**  
The door was closed. She was trying to be as quiet as possible, but he wasn’t fooled. He heard her in the bathroom throwing up. She was only getting worse. The radiation symptoms were slow, slower than it had been in Arkadia, but he could see it in the sheen of sweat on her forehead and her constant lethargy and the way she twitched when she lay down, he shortness of breath, the nightmares she had at night and tried to hide.

He rested his head against the door. “Talk to me, Clarke.”

“I’m fine.” 

“You’re not fine. You’re sick again.”

“It’s nothing. It’ll be over in a bit.”

“And then it’ll start up tomorrow. It happens every night now.”

He heard the toilet flush and the water run. Then the door opened. “It only happens at night. When I’m worn out and tired. My body has been through so much.” She smiled at him, but her face was pale and damp. The sweat darkening her hair at her temples. “See? I’m feeling better already.”

“Dammit, Clarke,” he said and pulled her close to him. “You know that’s not it.”

“I know no such thing.”

“It’s been happening for three weeks now.”

“I have no sores.”

“But you’re a nightblood, maybe it’s affecting you differently.”

“It gave Luna sores before she fought it off.”

“But this nightblood was engineered.”

“So was hers. Bellamy. It’s psychosomatic. I’m just going crazy, okay? I’ve been there before. I’m way too dramatic and my body needs to get the nerves out somehow.” She said it lightheartedly. Totally fake. A joke. An excuse. 

He let her have it. He nodded tightly. “How about I find another way for your body to get the nerves out.”

He walked up close to her, crowding into her so she had to take a step back, then another. He herded her into the bedroom and pushed her back onto the bed while she laughed and clutched at his shoulders.

***  
She stopped throwing up. So he stopped nagging her about testing for radiation poisoning. She didn’t tell him, but he knew it was because if the nightblood was failing there was nothing they could do. She was dying. And they would find out soon enough. But it never quite developed all the way into the full radiation poisoning symptoms, so Bellamy let it slide. 

But he knew something was wrong. She tasted different. She slept like the dead, as if her body was trying to fight off something. Her appetite had disappeared. The light in her eyes wasn’t as bright. She wanted to say it was just grief and exhaustion and loss, but he was experiencing those too and it wasn’t affecting his body this way. 

He should make her test, if just to confirm it, so they could stop worrying what it MIGHT be, but he couldn’t bear to ask her again. He would prefer to hold her in his arms, naked against him, her back pressed up against his front, his hand stroking gently over her ribs, down her stomach, down…

She pulled away like she was uncomfortable. Then she froze as if she’d been caught. 

“Clarke,” he said and shoved her shoulder so she lay flat on the bed and he could look at her. “Are you in pain?”

She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “No, not really.”

“Not really? What do you mean? Clarke, you’ve got to tell me what’s going on. You have to. No hiding. It’s just us two. You can’t leave me in the dark.”

She turned into him and tucked her nose into his shoulder. “Something’s wrong with me,” she said.

He couldn’t help the big breath he took. She was finally admitting it. She hung on to him tighter. “I knew, Clarke. You haven’t been eating.”

She nodded into his shoulder. “Everything makes me feel sick. I’ve been trying to hide it.”

“Like I couldn’t tell you were putting your rations back?”

“I’m so sorry, Bellamy. This was supposed to work out for us. Or, I didn’t expect it to, but then it did so I thought it would and then we finally had hope.” She pulled back and smiled at him, tears leaking out of her eyes. He wiped them away with his fingers.

“It’s the radiation sickness, isn’t it?”

She shook her head. “No, not really. I think…. I think I must have been exposed to something, maybe before the nightblood. I—I have a tumor. In my gut. That’s why I can’t eat.”

He nodded, seriously and put his hand over her stomach. She shook her head. “Lower.” Clarke took his hand and slid it over her flat belly. She’d lost weight in the two months they’d been in the bunker. “There,” she said. “You can feel it. Like a stone. About the size of a plum.” There was a hard bump there.

He pulled his hand back. “A tumor.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know exactly. Murphy didn’t steal that kind of equipment. I don’t know Bellamy, I was being trained as a medic, broken bones and stab wounds, not diagnostics. But I’m getting sicker. I’m getting thinner. I’m tired all the time. My periods have stopped. And we are surrounded by radiation constantly. I don’t know how long I’m going to have.”

“Did you say your periods have stopped?” Bellamy stopped. 

“Yeah. I figure because of the placement of the—“

“Your appetite… why can’t you eat?”

“I”m just queasy all the time. Even the smell of food—“

“The smell?” Bellamy was remembering things. 

“Yeah it turns my stomach.”

“Clarke,” he said. “That happened to my mom.” He put his hand back on her stomach, over the hard lump there. “When she was pregnant with Octavia. I remember because she was trying to hide her queasiness. She had to quit working her extra shift in the dining hall because just the smell would make her sick.”

Clarke looked at him with eyes as big as saucers. “No.”

“When was your last period?”

“Before we found the bunker in Polis at least.” She sat up. He could see her putting things together. “It couldn’t be. I have an implant.”

“When was the last time it was checked?”

“I don’t know, when I was in the skybox!” 

“Clarke…” he said.

She put her hand over his on her stomach. “Is it possible? My symptoms… Can you get morning sickness at night?” He shrugged. “But I lost weight!” She grabbed onto her breasts. “MY BOOBS!”

He could hardly breathe, to be honest. “They are spectacular.”

“They’re bigger Bellamy. I thought it was… I don’t know, edema. I, god Bellamy, I focused on injuries and common illnesses. Patching people up. Not deathly illnesses or…oh my god.. Pregnancy. Nobody ever got pregnant, Bellamy. Bellamy. Bellamy. How could I have been so stupid? Why didn’t you notice my boobs were bigger? I’ve been naked with you pretty much non stop for the last few weeks.”

He gaped at her. “I-I’m sorry, Clarke. I think you forgot that before we got into this bunker I spent as much time as possible avoiding looking at your boobs. Because I never thought I had a chance with you and I was trying so hard not to want you.” He flexed his hand over her belly. “Is this real?”

She sat up and chewed on her lip. “All the symptoms. I thought I was dying.” She started laughing. “Oh my god I am the worst doctor ever.”

“You aren’t actually a doctor, you were kind of forced to be our medic.”

She jumped up and ran into the office naked. He was afraid to hope. Clarke wasn’t dying of radiation poisoning. The thing they’d been avoiding for the last few weeks.

He pulled on his sweats and a tshirt, and picked up her robe. It was actually a little chilly down here to walk around naked all day, as much as he liked her walking around naked. 

She was crouched down in front of the cabinet with the medical supplies. He bent down and dropped the robe over her shoulders. “Are you okay?” He squatted next to her.

“Murphy didn’t bring any sonogram or imaging technology.” She snorted a laugh and looked up at him with a stethoscope in her ears. The other end was pressed to her abdomen. “I can’t hear anything.” 

“Do you want me to listen?” Bellamy said. He was kind of afraid to push. 

She sighed and took the stethoscope out of her ears. “No. It’s too early to hear with a stethoscope. Twelve weeks. If it’s true, I should be twelve weeks pregnant.”

He looked at her. “We weren’t together 12 weeks ago. We weren’t even in the same place.”

“Bellamy,” she rolled her eyes as if he were stupid for not knowing. “You count pregnancy from your last period. That would be two weeks before you told me you loved me, and I showed you that I loved you back.”

“I’m sorry are you mocking me for not knowing about how pregnancy works?”

She laughed weakly, grabbed his shirt and pulled him down so he tipped over and landed on his butt. She crawled over into his lap. “Bellamy what if it’s true?”

He stroked her back. “If it’s true then you are not dying of radiation poisoning or cancer or anything. If it’s true then you are going to…” he stopped. He couldn’t say it. 

“If it’s true, then I’m— we’re going to have a baby.”

“If it’s true, then we’re—shit. Do we have enough rations for three people for five years? We’re going to have to reorganize.”

“We can figure it out,” Clarke said and wrapped her arms around his neck, putting her cold nose against his skin. 

“You think it’s true?”

“I think maybe. Now that I realize, I think I feel pregnant. I thought—I was thinking of nothing but death, Bellamy. And you were still recovering, and I saw you in so much pain. And it’s been one disaster after another I was looking for the next one. When I started getting sick, why would I think it was something good? I was throwing up and cramping and I FELT something heavy in me, growing.” She laughed again. “I thought tumor.”

His heart had stopped beating. “You think this is something good?”

She looked up. “Yes!” Then she stopped. Blinked. “It’s good, right? Well, I mean. Pregnant? Oh my god. That’s terrifying. I don’t know anything about raising babies.”

“I do,” he whispered. Remembering. “A baby is something good.” Bellamy held onto her tight and kissed her.

**Author's Note:**

> You might notice that I didn't get to the end of my nonny's prompt. that's a lot of stuff to put in a one shot. I guess I need a part 2. ;)


End file.
